


Here's Jimmy!

by Chooboozle



Series: Chooboozle's Halloween [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Afterlife, Bounds, Chooboozle's Halloween, Daddy Kink, Death, Don't Ask, Feminization, Killing, Lingerie, M/M, Multiple Personality Disorder, Personality Conversation/Conflict, Psychosis, Psychoteeth, Right?, Rope Bondage, Ryan has a split, Self-Lubrication, Sick and Twisted, Split Personality?, Suicide Attempt, because I want to, gagged, halloween fic, promise you it's a happy ending, serial killer au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-02-23 07:22:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2539241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chooboozle/pseuds/Chooboozle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan is suffering from Psychosis and Multiple Personality Disorder; and he knows this - well. There is a killer on the loose; he's a notorious one - one that dresses boys and men up in lingerie before raping them and then slitting their throat as his ultimatum. All Ryan wants to do is keep Ray safe.</p><p>It's a shame there's more than meets the eye.  </p><p> </p><p>  <em>“Our dear, we’re just worried for you. We just care for our little Ray."</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shame

**Author's Note:**

> **THIS HAS SOME TRACES OF FEMINIZATION AS WELL AS IN THE SECOND CHAPTER, STRICT, EXPLICIT FEMINIZATION.**
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> Please, please, please, be advised. If you do not like this, then just don't say anything and leave.

“Can you  _please_  j-just let me go?” whimpered the Hispanic Lad as he pulled on the ropes that bound his hands back, lacing them around the back of the chair that he sat in. There were tears soaking the lens of his glasses as he looked through them at the angry, hateful shadow. The shadow held a blade - a straight razor - of whose blade was already messy with blood, and a twisted, evil smile with the most lucid chuckle that the Lad has ever heard in his entire life.

 

It was dark, all except for the faint glow of the Xbox which was about to automatically power off because of the lack of use for the past hour. Ray has been tied up for an hour now and he awoke like this. The last thing he remembers was that Ryan came back into the house with a bloody face...And this there was pain and with a blunt darkness.

 

With restrained wrists and ankles that were bound tight with scratchy, cutting ropes, movement was very limited. All the Lad could afford was trying to talk to the  _obviously_  insane man that stood before him. This wasn't his love...His love was not this man that lurked in the shadows.

 

It was suppose to be a nice night - one filled with a round of  _Halo 5_ , some Netflix and popcorn, and hopefully a score of some nice sex with a little bit of twisted bondage and rope tying. All love and games, however, the turn of the night fled sharply. Now Ray was in a chair, bound tight and firm, staring at the shadow with a blade in hand.

 

His eyes were black - not the pupils, but the skin outside of the eye, including his brow, was covered in black pain that rolled off in thick beads of sweat. The mask that was originally placed on his head was now discarded and thrown across the room.

 

“Now why would I do that, Ray? I thought you didn't...like me,” the man chuckled. “We were just about to have fun…”

 

“Fuck you, dude,” sighed the Hispanic. “This is a fucking joke, right?  _Please_ tell me you’re fucking with me. You know I love you! Come on, babe..."

 

“Ray,” the shadow pulled the razor into full view, where it seemed to gleam in the faint light that the T.V had emitted, “does this  _look_  like I’m fucking with you?”

 

“No, no, no, you’re kidding. You’re not that sick! You’re not that crazy enough, are you, Ryan?! Come on, man,  _please_  say you’re not!” Ray was shuddering, now - whimpering as the man stepped out of the darkness with a gleam in his wicked, dark eye.

 

“Oh, honey,” the killer chuckled, coming forwards to Ray until he stood right over the Hispanic Lad, giving the most  _sickening_  smile that Ray has ever seen his lover do. “I’m that and more...Now, come on...let’s have some fun…”

 

In his left hand that finally came around from his back revealed lacy, loose garments - frilly and girly and  _everything_  that Ray hated. They were pink with shimmering, silky laces.

 

In the other was the razor, pulled and ready - ready for purposes of which it was not made for  _at all_.

 

"And by the way...it is  _James_ , darling...Ryan is dead..."

  


^^^

  


“Ryan, I’m 25. Not a child and especially not  _your_  child,” Ray whined when he saw that Ryan had packed him a boxed lunch for the day. Ryan only chuckled, handing Ray his lunch and raising his eyebrows.   


“No, we are staying in the building today for lunch. In no way do I want to go eat somewhere knowing there’s a serial killer on the loose. I wouldn’t forgive myself if he got a hold of you, baby,” Ryan soothed, smirked when Ray snatched the lunch box from his hand and grumbled. "God, and the things he does? Have you seen the news? I'm surprised Geoff isn't scared to death for Michael."

 

“Rye, he’s not going to strike in the middle of the day, come on. I feel like you’re just trying to find an excuse to baby me,” Ray sneered, preparing to leave out the door when he suddenly felt Ryan’s warm arms grab a hold of his sides. The Hispanic yelped, laughing loudly as he then felt Ryan pulling him close - close until their bodies connected in a very warm, yet awkward hug, as Ray’s back was pressing into Ryan’s chest and stomach. “Rye, please, we have to get to work…”

 

“Our dear,” Ryan kissed Ray’s head tenderly. “we’re just worried for you. We just care for our little Ray."

 

The Hispanic Lad shuddered as he felt Ryan dip his head against Ray's. There was a warm whirr that the Gent released and he purposely began to run his soft, wispy hair against the face of Ray. The Hispanic hated whenever Ryan referred himself as "us" and "we". Ray couldn't stand it - yet he didn't say anything. There was nothing he could do about it so he just turned his face towards the Gent and met his soft, smooth lips.

 

Ryan happily released a soft moan, wrapping his arms around the small Lad and pulled him close. When they parted, Ryan just held a soft smile while Ray frowned lightly - unsure.

 

"Are we going to be okay today?" Ray whispered.

 

"I hope..." Ryan whispered back. "I - I --  _we_  are just concerned for you...if we ever lost you, God --"

 

"You won't lose me,  _Ryan_ ," Ray emphasized, kissing the Gent once again. He hated - absolutely hated - how Ryan has been suffering. Ray has talked to the man's psychiatrist,  but the doctor said that the only help for it was to play along. Ray disagree entirely. The only way to help it was to deny it. Damn his psychosis. "Ryan..."

 

"Yes, dear?" the Gent cooed. "Darling, Ray?"

 

"I don't like 'James', " Ray shakily admitted. His voice was wobbly and cracked as he felt Ryan's arms tighten around his waist and  _God help him_  if Ray actually heard a defensive growl from Ryan’s throat. He felt blunt nails driving into his shirt

 

Ray felt fear shudder through his veins as he pressed his lips against Ryan's cheek, hoping he didn't anger his lover. Small kisses were places and apologetic coos were heard. Ryan responded with a little kiss of his own. A press of harshness against Ray's nose.

 

"It's a shame you don’t, Ray...He  _adores_  you as much as I do..."

  


~~~

  


Ray moaned, gasping out a breathless " _oh, yes_ " and he dug his face into the covers. Ryan hummed happy and content as he drove himself deeper and harsher into the Hispanic Lad. Ray's hard cock was slapped against the base of his stomach, seeping heavily with delight and pleasure.

 

" _God_ , Ryan,” Ray whined, pushing back against the Gent above him. Head hands settled harsh on Ray’s waist as Ryan thrusted faster, little moans leaving his lips.

 

“Little one,” the Gent moaned. The Lad writhed and moaned like a little kit, whimpering and moaning under the strong man. “Our little Ray, my dear…”

 

The Hispanic Lad cursed; he cursed because of Ryan and continuation of  _James_. Ray grinded his nails into the sheets, gritting his teeth and growling, deciding that it was time to stop, but suddenly, there was a deep  _yank_  of Ray’s hair, sending his head back. The Hispanic gasped, eyes wide at the pull and he yelped in pain as he felt his throat become exposed to the hot air. Shuddering chills flowed down his spine and he whimpered.

 

“ _Ray_ ,” Ryan moaned a guttural roar. The Gent’s pace never faltered as he wrapped his hand around the Lad’s exposed throat, rubbing his palm harshly on the skin. The Hispanic Lad whimpered, choked, and whined as he felt a sticky bead of precum seeping out. “ _Oh, Ray_. G-God, you feel so  _good_  around me, my small babe...”

 

Ray whimpered, wanting to say a little thanks of appreciation until Ryan bucked up his hips up  _hard_  into Ray, sending his cock into the soft spot of the little Lad. Ray yelped, wrapping an immediate hand around his slick, wet cock and moaned out Ryan’s name as the Gent continued. There was a sudden  _growl_. The hand around Ray’s throat clamped tighter and tighter, making the Lad whimper, but with  _pleasure_. He cried for more, shouting Ryan’s name over and over again as the Gent rammed himself into the Lad, pressing harshly against Ray’s body. The Lad was  _impossibly_  full - stretched to the very limits before just on the verge of being pushed over. Ray whimpered, wanting to rock back and continue to fuck himself on the Gent’s cock, but Ryan wouldn’t let him.

 

His hand held firm on Ray’s throat and the Hispanic pathetically whimpered as he tried his best to continue the stimulation by continuing to jerk himself. Desperate, needy, and  _hungry_.

 

“My name...is  _James_ ," growled the Gent. Ray whimpered, heaving out a massive groan as he felt himself spill over. The man above him rocked himself in and out of the Lad, shooting wondrous sparks up Ray's spine as the Lad cried out in pure, shaking, ecstasy. "My Ray...Oh, my Ray..."

 

Ray was shivering. Soft, confused sobs escaping his loose lips as the man continued to drive breathlessly into him, the gushing warmth soon shooting up his body and making moan in a cry.

  


~~~~~

  


It was a sleepy night. The lights were off except for the shine of the T.V that played unrecognizable, unpopular cartoons that played in the AMs. Ray slept soundly in the lap of the Gent who twirled his fingers into the dark, loose locks of the Lad. He was muttering soft words, rubbing at Ray's twitching arm. He was shushing tenderly at the sleeping, twitching Hispanic, whispering unintelligible soft words.

 

_God, isn't he so beautiful?_

 

"Oh, yes," Ryan whispered, smiling widely as he looked down at the Hispanic. He sighed happily. "He's so perfect...Our Ray..."

 

_He is so perfect...I want him..._

 

There was a look of shock that Ryan gave, pursing his lips. He slightly clenched his fists and rubbed it against the back of the Lad before clearing his throat.

 

"N - no...He's not like the others. He's ours...not just some game to kill..."

 

_Dress him up, be my little girl...Play with her and make her feel so good...my small babe._

 

"No, he will not be used like some sort of  _meat_. He's our Ray. He will not be associated with the rest of them - they're different," Ryan gritted his teeth in a worry, pursing his lips and exhaling deeply.

 

There wasn't a reply and Ryan soon hummed in a hurry before looking at his watch.

 

1:32 A.M

 

"Ray, baby..." the Gent called, softly shaking the Lad in his lap. There was soft, sleepy whines as Ray opened his eyes slowly. He looked up at Ryan and gave a smile and to the Gent, that was a grip on reality. "Let's go to bed..."

 

"Okay, bae," Ray chuckled, sitting up. He leaned his whole body against Ryan, connecting their lips in a sleepy, lazy kiss. Ryan sighed happily, gripping the Hispanic’s arms and pulling them close. The movements were soon harsh and in a jerk, they were pulled to where Ray moaned a tender pitch before the noise suddenly shifted as Ryan began to push Ray back. The two collided with the pillows of the couch, Ryan on top of Ray, quickly digging his knee into the Lad's thigh. Ray gasped, but he was giggling. " _Ryan_ , please. I'm sleepy...Don't wanna --"

 

"You're  _mine_ , my small babe..." growled the Gent. There was a questionable purr that Ryan had made. His fists were clenching the Hispanic’s shirt tightly, gripping them close until he forcefully pulled Ray into a harsh, controlling kiss. Ray moaned happily, moving his lips eagerly against the kiss.

 

"I'm  _your's_ , Ryan..."

 

There was a discontented snarl of the Gent, gritted teeth and harsh breath. Ray shuddered as he felt the tented hardness pressing eagerly against Ray's leg and the Hispanic whined.

 

"I'm tired...Can this wait until morning?..."

 

The Gent smiled wickedly and nodded. "Of course...my little babe..."

  


~

  


Ray awoke in a frantic panic. He was gasping, sweating, and whimpering as he pulled the covers over his head to hide away. He desperately tried to flail his arms towards the area of where Ryan  _normally_  slept beside him, but to no avail, the Gent wasn’t there. His spot on the bed wasn’t even warm as if he  _had_  been there the previous night. Ray only cried, tears running down his cheeks in thick beads as he sobbed, cupping his own cheeks and face in his hands.

 

He had the most  _awful_  dream that he had ever experienced. Usually, nightmares and night terrors are not a problem for the little Lad.

 

 _Yes, my little girl, ride that cock as if that was all God created you to do, you pathetic whore…_  Those words echoed through Ray’s head like knives constantly stabbing at his ears. He continued to cry, curling himself up against the bed and covers, using them as protection from the nightmare.

 

The only detail to make the nightmare actually  _worse_  was the fact that those words had the voice that belonged to his lover…

 

“Ryan…” Ray weakly sobbed out. He sniffled through wet drips of his nose before wiping his face. He mentally yelled at himself to pull it together, wondering why he was just so  _terrified_  at the nightmare. He was raped - raped and  _used_. It shouldn’t be as scary as being chased by a murderer or even being killed by a monster, but it  _was_. He felt  _dirty_ , something that he had never felt before,  _especially_  with his lover.

 

“Ryan…” he called again, trying to pick himself up and pull himself together with weak strings as thick as strands of hair. He began to sit up on the bed, finally pulling the covers off of him before looking out of the door. The hallway was empty and dark, he could already tell. There was just silence with the exception of a couple of stray songs of pitchy, singing birds. The house settled quietly - normal; nothing was out of the ordinary as far as physically, but it was just all-in-all  _off-putting_. As Ray finally scooted himself off of the bed, he began to walk out of the door to where he  _finally_ heard a faint, distant voice. It belonged to the television.

 

_“Reports suggest that the murderer is now in Travis County. Authorities say that absolutely no one is to leave their homes. Please lock all of the doors and make sure everyone is safe and secure. Please, take this into the account. The murderer is loose and violent._

 

_Repeat: the Gentleman Murderer has stuck once again in Travis County, Austin. A man roughly around the age of 25 was stabbed at least 12 times. The murderer dressed the man in what seemed to be like lingerie before sexually assaulting the man and then cutting his throat from ear to ear... After further investigation, it was noted that all of the victim’s red hair was ripped out of his scalp, causing death of exsanguination along with severe hemorr --"_

 

Ray frantically turned around in a haste, breathing sharply. There was a tingling in his fingers that crept along his arms as he looked at the culprit who turned off the T.V.

 

"R - Ryan, where were you?..." Ray shakily asked, arms noticeably trembling. The Gent toss the remote on the couch before rubbing his hands on the towel that was wrapped around his waist. Ray honestly felt absolutely stupid for asking that question. Considering that Ryan's hair was drenched and pressed and that he was completely bare except for the towel around him, it was obvious that the Gent just received a shower.

 

"I was cleaning myself. You shouldn't be watching stuff like that...It'll give you nightmares." Ryan answered, aimlessly pulling the towel off of him and pulling it up to begin drying his hair. Ray blushed, not helping himself but to stare at his naked lover before him. The Hispanic pursed his lips as he studied Ryan's body, loving how tone it seemed to be as of late. Ray continued to ponder over the words that his lover spoke to him.

 

"You've been working out, Ryan..." Ray hummed, almost dreamily, drawing closer to the Gent. He ran soft, tracing fingers across the pectoral area of the Gent. They were tight and soft, making Ray purr. "I  _did_  had a bad dream last night, as a matter of fact..." the Hispanic drew out his words purposefully. He always did this when he wanted to cuddle up with his boyfriend.

 

Ryan merely chuckled, tossing the towel away and leaving completely open for Ray to see. "I figured...I saw you whimpering like a little pup. I was worried for you. Maybe thought you were dreaming about the killer or something."

 

Ray raised an eyebrow, continuing to run and rub his fingers across the smooth skin of the Gent. There was just something very...off...and Ray could barely put a finger on it until he bit his lip. Ryan was no longer referring to himself as "we".

 

"I don't think I was - hopefully, I mean...God, it was awful, though..." Ray saw the Gent nodding his head, looking down to the floor. There was an uncomforting silence that laid between then and Ray cleared his throat before he spoke once again, "The...the News said that we shouldn't leave. I got worried, thinking you weren't here."

 

"Don't worry, babe," the Gent hummed, planting a loving kiss on the Hispanic’s cheek before passing him. "Would you like to have some fun, little girl?" There was a chuckle in the throat of Ryan as he said that.

 

Ray darted his eyes towards the naked back of his lover, his jaw slack and full of shock. He cleared his throat, wobbly and in fear. It sounded almost exactly like how the man sounded in his dream.

 

"Excuse me, Ryan?"

 

There was a pause that the Gent made. He froze mid stride as he looked into the distance, back towards the Lad. There was a shattering quietness between them both before Ryan looked back at Ray, a kind, almost worried and concerned smile playing his lips.

 

"Do you want to have some fun, little Ray? Tonight maybe we can just relax and watch some movies. Don't wanna go out because of the killer."

 

Ray pursed his lips and nodded slowly, beginning to walk towards the Gent who began pulling on some black sweat pants and a blue t-shirt. The Hispanic Lad walked slowly passed the Gent and plopped on the bed, curling himself in the covers.

 

"How did you sleep last night?" Ray whispered. His fingers were clenched and curled into fists against the blankets. The Gent shuffled around some, sighing as he finally fitted the blue shirt over his torso. It hugged his body wholly and complimented the shapes of the man's muscles.

 

"I didn't," was all he answered. Ray whimpered,  pulling his hands towards his face, completely confused and frightened now.

 

"Come sleep with me..." Ray offered opening the blankets to where they were inviting. He saw Ryan turn his head back, looking at the opening and invitation with longing. He sighed, gripping the shelves of the dresser he clung to, obviously contemplating the actual notion of sleep.

 

"Dear..." he began, his voice soft and settled. Ray smiled, suddenly no longer having the fear that shuddered through his veins.

 

"My nightmare last night scared me...I'd just like to cuddle, right now...and you can sleep."

 

"Dear," he repeated, walking over to the bed. He leaned his weight against the mattress,  giving the Lad a kiss on his nose. Ray pulled at his shirt, whining as he drove Ryan down. The Gent landed with a soft thud, grunting slightly.

 

"Lay with me, Ryan..." Ray whispered. "You have nothing else to do and you aren't going to leave this house. Please, Ryan, I'm worried for you..."

 

Ryan visibly bit his lip, softly releasing a groan. His eyes were lidded and heavy, the heat and comfort of the previous shower beginning to coat his body in a nice heat and comforting cloud. He began to lay down on the bed, yawning heavily.

 

"Our love..." he whispered. "It isn't  _me_  you should be worried about..."

  
  


~

  


“Don’t you dare think that  _you_  will hurt  _my_  Ray. I’m sick of you. I’m tired of the deeds that you perform - the  _murders_  you cause. Get out of my head, you sick, twisted fuck!” Ryan cried as he smashed his fists into the brick wall. He gasped at the pain, feeling his bones bruising under the crushing muscles that forces them into the hard stone of the rough, molded clay. There was blood seeping out of his fingernails and he dragged them across the wall, almost as if trying to rip the barricade down in order to run away.

 

 _Oh, Ryan, you pathetic scum...How can I hurt_ your _Ray if I am_ you _?_

 

“You are  _not_  me! You’re a monster, that’s what you are! Your intentions are bad; I know what you’re capable of; I can feel you thinking it... First Michael, now my little Ray, you will  _not_ \--”

 

 _I already have, Ryan...God, Michael felt so good around us, didn’t he? You loved it and you are just denying it. I knew you could feel it as I did so, my hands all over him - the pathetic noises he tried to make past his bleeding throat. You could touch his silky, smooth body just as much as I did so with his lacy, lovely panties on. You were moaning and whimpering for more, I could hear you in my head. You didn’t want me to stop...You didn’t want_ us _to stop, did you? When I finally was finished, I could have sworn most of our juices were from_ you _; it’s a good thing we always keep a towel nearby, isn’t it? God, the way you wanted more from it...More than you’ve ever wanted with our other kills, didn’t you? More than you ever wanted with Ray..._

 

“No, no, no,  _no!_ ” Ryan was on his knees, sobbing, his wet, bloody nails now dragging all along the bricks as he sank down. He could feel himself losing grip on reality; there were dark clouds beginning to fog up his vision as well as his tongue beginning to numb. “You’re sick and filthy! You’re a liar; I  _never_  would think such a thing!” Ryan was crying out, tears racing down his cheeks and falling in drips off of his chin - mainly because he knew there was an edge of truth in to it. “Michael -- that was the  _last_ straw. You’re a filthy cheat! I never thought such a thing with  _any_  of  _your_ victims. I am not apart of your kills -  there is no ‘us’ or ‘our’ in that. And as far as my Ray, you won’t  _dare_  to hurt him -- Michael was the edge...a-and now...y-you’re over the edge…”

 

 _But_ Ray  _...Now he feels so good. I swear I couldn't help myself but take control when we were together... So tight, slick, and wet...just like a dripping cunt, my little girl..._

 

"No! That was out of line! You could have hurt him..." Ryan gritted his teeth, whimpering as he fell weak, losing his strength to even look up at the sky anymore. "You won't dare treat him in such a way..."

 

There was a menacing chuckle - a demonic, unholy chuckle that resounded through the ears of Ryan.  _You can’t stop me...You’re losing yourself all ready...I’m too strong for you to stop now, you idiot._

 

Ryan whimpered slightly as he felt himself sinking onto the wet, sopping ground. It was cold and numbing. He reached into his pocket of the black sweatpants to pull out a straight razor. A blade that James had kept and owned in order to do his wicked deeds. It was always steamed with an autoclave - sterilized and free of all microorganisms whose DNA would tell on the Gent. He grabbed the blade before he left out the door  _just_  for this very occasion.

 

“I’ve already have my letter written…” he sighed out clouds of steam of his hot breath against the chill October air. “The only way to stop you is if…” Ryan trailed off, flicking out the blade. With tears coming out of his eyes, he positioned it just under his right ear, poisoning it and aiming for the vital veins that would drain all of his blood.

 

 _You don’t have the nerve, Ryan,_  spat the other.  _I’d absolutely love to watch and see you try to reach for the carotid. Your body won’t let you. You’ll just be a bloody mess - not a dead one._

 

“Fuck you,” Ryan spat, and with gritted teeth, began pressed in the blade. He gasped, feeling the pain shoot down his spine and all the way to his toes. He gritted his teeth, trying himself to run the blade across his neck, but there was a force to stop him. It ached and pulled and was actually strong enough to force Ryan to stop his attempt of death. There was warmth - pure, percolating warmth that trailed and run down the neck of Ryan in thick, lush beads. It was wet and smelled of copper and salt that ran down the neck of the Gent in a dark, faint stream.

 

_Oh, clueless Ryan. Always with the easy way out…Too bad for your little Ray. He will miss you, I already know. For me, on the other hand…_

 

Ryan gasped, feeling the warmth of the blood trailing out of the deep stabbing cut he produced beginning to fade away. It was no longer warm, just  _ice_. Ryan closed his eyes, pursing his lips as he gritted out a small, verbal curse before he finally felt himself drifting away. There was no form of the world or reality, just  _darkness_. Familiar darkness.

 

When he opened his eyes, they were no longer his. The smile - the smile  _birthed_  by murder and blood-lust - did not belong to him. He rose to his feet, chuckling darkly as he dried off his wet, bloody fingers against his clothes.

 

"I have won this little game...Don't worry, Ryan. You should know Ray is in...good hands," James held a twisted grin that would have shattered glass and a laugh that would have offended hyenas. He stepped towards the porch of the house, wiping the seeping blood all along his neck.

 

"Good hands...indeed..." he clubbed his fists together, stepping into the house with a sickening smile. "Oh, Ray?...My little girl?..."

 

There was a sound of a huge thud - almost like a wet brick smacking against a wall along with little, seeping groans before the boy finally lost consciousness.


	2. Humiliation.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ray does, in fact, learn the true horrors that lie within. He also learns that he fucking _loves_ them, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so, so, so sorry it took FOREVER, but I finially finished! 
> 
> Oh, God, _please_ be adivsed: SO MUCH BLOOD AND CUTTING OKAY? Cutting Kink, Blood Kink/Play, Death Kink?, and all of that good crap. ESPECIALLY feminization. If you do not like ANY of these, please do not get upset; just leave. 
> 
> Have an idea? Prompt request or scene suggestion for this fic? [Click here~](http://chooboozle.tumblr.com/ask)

" _God_ , you're gorgeous," the killer choked, his touching hands wrapping around the Lad's waist. Ray whimpered, twitching his spread legs and trying his very best to try and close himself, feeling the exposure driving him insane. The lacy, pink underwear was tight and dug into the cleft of the Lad and across his sensitive and tight entrance and making him shift uncomfortably. His thighs were stretched and spread to their full potential, leaving him groaning under strain. His lips were being cut against the rope that was tied tight across his mouth and he bit down on it when he felt the killer  _slap_  his ass on both cheeks, a smug laugh ringing in the air. “Don’t you dare fucking close those pretty thighs,” harsh, bruising fingers were groping at his cheeks, spreading them apart before pressing them together, just to see the skin rise from the smooth silky line of his thighs. “Let me see you all spread open for me…”

 

Ray  _moaned_  against the rope, his teeth grit and eyes shut and fists struggling to pull away from the bounds that held him down. Dried blood peppered his brow from the earlier wound that James gave him to knock him out; a sharp headache was all that was left besides the burning bruise that came with it. With a blazing heat rising in his face from the  _disgrace_ that he felt in this position with ass in the air and spread to where his cock twitched in excitement from the blind arousal from being down on his face like this; there was a small, thin wetness that began to shimmer in the dull light. It was shameful and Ray sobbed, trying to close his legs again to hide his peeking hardness that stained wetly in the soft, cotton fabric. The spankings were such  _excitement_  that pulses with each pricking pain that he felt against his skin and he hated himself for loving it.

 

He never would imagine that this would be his reality. Perhaps it would be, just less twisted and by the hands of his loving boyfriend, his  _actual_ boyfriend and not by this  _monster_. The killer and his boyfriend may have shared the same hands and lips, but they were different and he knew that. It was a disgrace that his body didn't, however; it was tingling and shifting in want. His body was layered with a thin, cool sweat along with his leaking cock desperate to be touched and trying to peep out from under the silky panties that hugged it.

 

The killer hummed, licking one red cheek that welled up in a rosey color from the smacks and Ray moaned feeling that familiar feeling of Ryan's tongue. The red, swollen skin of the bounds were heated with fresh  _lively_ blood rising to the surface and even shattering out in broken capillaries to cause the sweet, lovely color of purple and black.  He smacked the boy again, causing Ray to  _scream_  against the rope, suppressing sobbing cries from the pain, toes curling. James knew all too well, though,  reaching under the boy to feel his hard cock trying ever so badly to spring from its confines to be touched.

 

“Does my small baby girl  _love it_  when her Daddy spanks her? I think she does, ” he scowled, the rough hands never ceasing their treatment of smacks and gripping of his cock. Fingers began to massage that thickening sac of the Lad, running all over the creased and hot skin. The pink underwear was now beginning to blend in with the color of his skin along with the slight bruising when James gave yet another hard  _slap_ against his ass. “ _Answer me, little bitch_. I am  _not_  your petty boyfriend, Ryan…”

 

Ray choked, teeth grinding against the coarse rope that was whittled and braided together in a thick and tight knot. He could feel the sharp pinpricks of the jagged needle hair of the rope against red and swollen gums and soon, the wet copper of blood soon strangled his tongue, causing him to whine. He felt the killer -  _James_  - pull on his thin panties, popping the strand against his sore and hot skin of his slapped cheeks and now the  _wonderful_ , groping touch of the man now leaving his cock. Ray squealed again, finally trying to give some sort of attempt of saying a word, grinding black and bloodied knees into the floor for some relief of his interested and excited cock. When he did scream, it sounded like a stifled yell, something along the lines of a guttural “yes!”

 

There was a please purr from James as he massaged at the boy’s hips, running his fingers in between the smooth fabric of the panties and dipping his fingers in so that they may touch the round mounds and crease of Ray’s ass. “My silly girl, I don’t like to yell at you…” he kissed Ray’s cheek, adding another dab of his tongue, making the Lad under him quake in fear, trembling in his bounds and gritted his teeth harshly against the rope that cut his gums. “I wanna have some fun, don’t you?” he whirred, thumbing at the rounds of Ray's ass. "I'm already so hard for my baby girl..."

 

Ray’s stomach flipped, nausea crawling its way up his throat at the sentence. He squealed  _desperately_  for James to reconsider despite what the primitive instinct of excitement from his treatment was doing to him. He frantically shook his head no so much so that his glasses were very close to flying off of his face. There was then an  _evil_  chuckle and a tight, firm hand settling against the small of his back and rubbing softly.

 

“That’s okay, pretty girl,” the psychopath growled. “We don’t have to start right now…”

 

Ray felt the tension pull away and he sighed in relief. His teeth continued to bear down on the cutting rope, but they ultimately relaxed due to the statement. He continued to feel James' thick hand moving down his back and soon, it was accompanied by his other hand and both were now moving together at such an even and soft pace, giving what seemed like professional care that only a certified therapist would give. “My pretty girl,” he sighed  _darkly_. “My precious prize. I don’t know why it took me so long pent up inside that pathetic man to keep me from getting at you…”

 

The Hispanic felt his legs tighten, a heated blush blanketing what seemed like his entire body as fingers were now driving into the deep cleft of the boy, moving past rounded, soft, and plump cheeks. His fingers were so close to Ray's hole that the cheeks had clenched tightly so that James wouldn't be able to touch. He did, however, and Ray gasped at the icy touch.

 

“My,” the mental man whispered when he pushed the skin open and see the puckered muscle so wet and puckered. He pressed the pads of his first two fingers, index and middle, against the entrance of the Lad, making Ray  _squeal_  so suddenly. “So warm and tight for me.” There was another sigh that exhaled passed his nose when he released the revealing, lacy fabric from the panties. “Not now,” he confirmed, drawing a disappointed groan at the end of his sentence. “Baby girl doesn’t want to have fun right now, she says.”

 

Ray buckled his knees together, whining. The use of the words “she”, “pretty girl” were absolute torment and the Hispanic honestly believed that he would first die from the use of those words rather than by the hand of James. Then there was a shattering fear that he was  _going_  to die and he began to move again, desperately struggling to undo his bonds. His mouth was weeping rosey blood, the warmth beginning to trail all around his teeth and lips from the cutting rope that continued to poke and jab at his swollen gums. They have been at this for almost an hour now with tormenting words and messages that Ray would have normally been so  _excited_  for, but now it was dark.The adrenaline that accompanied panic and sadness were coursing through and it was all he could do to try and stay calm - not to panic and anger the killer.

 

Then, involuntarily, Ray bit down  _hard_  on the rope, gasping in to where he almost choked at the sudden pain that racked his thigh. He kicked his leg, just like a startled mule, and cried.

 

“Down, girl,” patted the killer with a calm hand. “You said you wanted to wait for the fun, so…” his voice trailed upward into something vast and malicious. There wasn’t an ending to that sentence, Ray discovered. There was just more  _pain_  as the cold, sharp razor drug down his thigh in a vertical form and towards his knee. Ray continued to bite on the rope, slightly spitting out little drops of blood and saliva that his mouth would no longer take anymore.

 

“Ryan!” he struggled to cry passed the gag. Tears flooded down his cheeks and dropped in soft  _plifts_  off of his chin. An audible  _growl_  was rumbled and heard in the victim’s ears before the pain increased, the razor trailing downward and much deeper than before.

 

“Where the  _fuck_  is Ryan, now?” the killer gritted his teeth, continuing to stab and press the razor harder and harder with each stroke, now moving upward. “Tell me, Ray.  _Where is he?!_ ”

 

Ray cried and didn’t answer. Instead, he braced himself to bare down on the razor. Warmth trickled down his leg and pooled in a puddle from his knee. He did all he could to keep from crying but soon, the razor was off. He heard the heavy, content sigh from the man as his hands once again comfortingly wrapped around the boy’s legs and thighs.

  
“You’re  _lovely_ ,” hummed James, his fingers now beginning to dip into the heated, crimson pool. “You bleed so bright and lush. Not like most…”

 

“S - stop it,” Ray muffled out in a small cry. He whimpered as he felt the killer’s hand running all along the lines of the cut, skimming sting pains and warmth of blood all over his hand. The Hispanic whined, kicking and twitching his legs so that he may get away, but he couldn’t.

 

“Cute girl, don’t fight me…” James whispered, palming his hand that was against the wound now against the Hispanic’s stomach. Ray whimpered, straining against the bonds once again when he felt the slick wetness of warmth beginning to coat his navel. Everything smelled of metal - copper-y pennies and wet iron. It was sickening and  _frightening_  as the sense of clarity came to be that Ray was on his knees in a pool of his own blood. James smushed Ray’s face against the floor, forcing his ass even upward into the air to present.

 

“J - James,” Ray finally shook out of his chest, strangled against the ropes that strained almost as tight against his mouth as his lungs in his chest.

 

“My lovely lady?” James replied with a voice as low as a soothing bass. Nothing was harsh about his tone and nothing was sharp against the edges of his voice. He was calm and so Ray shuddered, forcing himself to keep calm too. The killer’s hands surgically and strategically danced over Ray’s body constantly, barely ever moving away.

 

“P - please, stop, James,” he cried against the gag. “L - let me go, _please_.”

 

“My silly, darling girl,” James chuckled, pulling his hands all over the love handles that Ray possessed. Nothing too thick, but soft and plush enough to grip and massage. They settled perfectly against the tight, lacy pink underwear that was now beginning to stain with blood from painted fingers who knew no limits of their curious touches. “Why would I do that? We’re just getting started.”

 

The power against the arms and fingers increased and Ray felt the searing pain and pressure pulling against him as James was beginning to flip him over, shakingly settling Ray on his back. The boy whined, hands and fingers now unbearably begin press against his dorsal. He tried his best to not look the killer in the eyes; what was one his loving, caring, and semi-psychotic boyfriend and lover was now a completely  _maniac_  and killer. His Ryan was gone, and he would know what for sure if he were look into the dead, crystallized orbs that were James’ eyes.

 

“Spread for me, baby girl,” he cooed, hands immediately dipping in to massage the inner thighs of the boy. “So cute, so cher,” he praised. Ray obeyed only because James’ hand skimmed over the large, deep gash and his legs involuntarily opened up just to stop the pain. “My  _eager_  girl. So ready for Daddy’s cock” He thumbed through the creases of the fabric and laces, diving them into the folds of Ray’s groin. The boy’s cock bounced at the warm, wet touch and he whimpered, digging his teeth into the edges of the rope.

 

There was a pressing bulge that rose in the major covering of the fabric, however it rose to reveal darkening colors of the Lad’s cock as it poked out. He mewled, shakily trying to close his legs and press his knees together so that the killer wouldn’t touch.

 

“Already so hard for her Daddy, aren't you?" the murderer chuckled, aiming the razor against Ray’s other thigh. “You better spread those legs if you don’t want Daddy to cut,” he warned. The Lad desperately tried to squeal in protest, his heart beginning to pound icy needles through his arteries. He bore his teeth down on the rope once again to try and brace himself for the pain that he could already  _feel_  before the cold blade even touched his skin. “Twitchy girl,  _naughty girl_ , I can feel your warmth and slick rubbing against me. Are you already wet for me, pretty Ray?”

 

Ray’s cock bobbed at the question, fingers digging into his arms that were folded against each other, pressed against the floor. He wanted to kick, punch, and just fight somehow although the shattering, calm hand of the killer pressed against his stomach, rubbing softly. His fingers grazed through the tiny, dark strands of hair that lined his stomach and navel, trailing all the way down to his groin. It was such a relaxing touch that Ray fell into the rhythm of almost instantly, lolling his head to the side and just staring at James.

 

“Like a cat surrendering its neck for submission,” he purred. “In another life - perhaps the one after this - you would bare my  _kits_  and I would call you my bride.” He leaned in for a  _daring_  kiss that was not accepted by Lad. With a scowl, he continued, “in another life, I wouldn’t have been trapped inside that imbecile’s body. I would be  _my own_  and you would be mine.”

 

Ray didn’t respond except for a mewl of defeat, falling completely limp and pliant against the killer’s rubs. He felt the blade of the razor slide ever so smooth and quick against his shin, slicing yet another cut. It felt like a nick from the slippage of a shaving razor, but Ray could see his blood running thick in streams that trailed and wept down his ankles and pooled around his toes, coating them in the crimson paint.

 

“I am the artist, my girl, you the canvas," James whirred, licking dry lips with thirst in his eyes. "That’s what I could never get that pathetic  _sap_  to understand about my works. He only liked it because of the ass that he got at the end.”

 

There was a second scream of protest for the boy under him. He frantically shook his head with eyes screwed up  _not believing_  the words that he was hearing. That’s when the icy needles then turned into  _fiery_ pins that shot through his toes and fingertips. He frantically shook his head “no”, trying to not to allow the killer to take icy, cool hands to grip at his thighs, pulling him close until Ray's opened legs knocked against James' groin, feeling the familiar bulge rubbing up against his ass and even into his cleft, pushing back the fatty, flawless, yet crimson-stained cheeks of Ray's ass that mounded through the soft lacy pantries they he wore. A shattered grunt knocked onto the air from James before the hands moved against the stinging, weeping cut from the laceration he gave.

 

"M'pretty girl," he moaned softly, leaning down to place a warm kiss upon the Hispanic’s nose. "Still so hard and dripping for me despite all the painful strokes of my blade," he pushed against the deep cut of Ray's thigh, humming contently at the stream of blood that still seeped out against the pressure. "You're the first to ever have been like this..."

 

Ray cried, pressing back against the floor add if he were trying to melt into it. Anything to get away from his pitiful shame that stabbed at him. There was a tiny wet spot on his panties, cock bobbing excitedly out of the openings and soaking wet. The killer exhaled, a noticeable blush appearing on him when he saw the Lad's cock peeking out. "Look at how wanting you are...Don't you see how perfect we are together?"

 

He wrapped an icy hand around the hot and swollen head of Ray's cock and the Lad moaned so girlishly that Ray was even surprised at how he sounded. His hips rocked up into the killer’s cold touch, making James purr so  _proudly_ , the ring of his fingers tightening so that his boy could rock gently into it. "Fuck my hand, little babe," he snarled. "Enjoy  _everything_ about this."

 

Ray bit down on the rope, heat forcing his jaw shut from the shock of his own movements. He couldn't deny how good it felt, his own juices coating the tight fingers of the killer and his own cock. The edges of the underwear began to grow wet and warm, from the thick beads of his precum. Even the pain that shocked his leg - the pain that dulled into just now a light, weeping throb seemed to only excite the nerves of the Hispanic.

 

There was a shine and glimmer of metal in the killer's other hand and Ray recognized it as a surgical scalpel. It was spattered with an edge of blood - the only thick taint that dulled the light that surrounded the blade. Thick paint seemed to shoot through his veins, reaching down all the way to his cock when he saw the tool coated in his own blood. As terrifying as it seemed, the contrast was hypnotic.

 

The boy finally gave a pleading moan, eyes rolling back when James' hand took over, moving tight and slick on his cock at such an even and fast pace. There were encouraging words from the killer that struck a hot drip from the Lad, whimpering through the ropes and grit teeth.

 

"You're distracting me, girl," James groaned, hand gripping at his own hardness that grew and pressed so uncomfortably against his pants. "I have to finish my piece," there was a jealous, possessive whirr from him, rutting his bulge into Ray's ass, making a notable hitch in the Lad's breath. " _Oh_ , you're making me want to plow you, lovely girl; stop distracting your Daddy from his artwork..."

 

Ray whined against the rope, feeling the blade now beginning to press into the dip of his navel, running straight through the black hair that furred his body. He watched it with shaky, watering eyes as it dipped in and in that instant, he felt the slice of nerves that screamed from the cutting of the scalpel. He grunted, the rope acting as a tool to grit against so that he may bear it. It was no longer as bad as it felt before, but he assumed that it was just because his body completely gave up. He no longer moved, with the exception of his head and eyes which carefully followed the long, slow stroke of the blade against his stomach, digging upward until it stopped in a straight line at the center of his chest. Once it sliced the skin and continued to drag, there was a trail of blood that followed and leaked in thick, dark drops down his sides.

 

“Lush - you bleed lush, love,” James crooned, pressing just slightly deeper and that is when the boy released a guttural  _groan_ , throwing his head back until it knocked against the floor, cutting a small, surfaced circle at the very top of the line. He heard the killer make a sympathetic noise before letting go of the blade and picking up from the skin, letting the cut and slice bleed and seep as it should. Thick drops seemed to act as tears, his body crying and sobbing for life. The killer only responded by digging his blade down again, twirling it so smooth and sharp that Ray only jolted once he lifted the blade up again from the curled design that he brushed. The Hispanic could see the little wells of red filling up the gaps of his cuts before finally falling back, giving a heavy heave.

 

He couldn’t what the design was, but he could feel the shape - the shape of a single, straight line with a huge curve to swirl around it.

 

Despite all of that, James gripped at Ray’s cock with a steady hand, rubbing it so  _perfectly_  and Ray moaned, bucking his hips and scraping the cuts of his stomach against his skin.

 

“ _Oh_ , my pretty girl, I can’t wait any longer,” he moaned, spitting slightly in his hand before beginning to grip at Ray’s cock again. He pulled it out until the lacey and silk panties were only settling loose around his thighs, nearly off if Ray was to kick at them. The warm slick that dripped down his cock made Ray whimper, longingly thrusting into the killer’s hand and screwing his eyes closed to fight back tears. He couldn’t believe himself; the absolute  _humiliation_  and guilty act as the scalpel that sliced at his delicate skin, not the actual tool that the killer held. He enjoyed this - he  _revered_  this so. The screaming nerves that shifted from both the exciting pain and the enticing pleasure felt like a high that crippled him, acting like the bounds that held him down and the gagged that silenced his cries.

 

 _Ryan_ , he wished, a single tear leaving his eye and falling to the floor.

 

The fabric was now off; trim and silky mesh tickling at his skin when departing from his legs and leaving him completely exposed for James to see with his lusty eyes and insidious, sharp-toothed smile. Ray faced his head away as much as he could when the killer leaned in for a kiss that instead turned into a loving  _lick_  against his cheek. “My lovely babe, so wanting for her Daddy to fuck her. Do you like it when Daddy touches you like this?” In spite, he dug the blade into Ray’s side and sliced it quick with precision that nearly seemed to have more rigor than a professional artist, yet so careless and lazy. He messily kissed at the Hispanic’s neck with loose, wet lips and gnashing teeth that threatened to chomp instead of giving little love-nips. “Answer me,  _my_  prize; my love; my adoration; my  _queen_. Answer me and tell me how much you love this because I can feel it against your skin. You react  _nothing_  like how the others do. You don’t scream, beg, plead, pray, or even bargain with me to not take your life. You don’t even try to say a single word to me, my darling,” lips wetly kissed at Ray’s cheek, humming so warm and welcoming that the Lad even dared to look at the familiar face of his killer.

 

His eyes were aphotic and clouded of any sane life that were to possess them. They weren’t Ryan’s eyes, not in the least, but they  _were_  loving and full of praise.

 

“My beautiful Ray,” he whispered, hands finally reaching behind the back of the Lad’s head and beginning to untie the strapping knot of the rope that gagged him. “Mewling like a kit in heat before I’m even inside of you, rocking your world as if you were a Goddess…Is it Ryan’s body you love? Or is it something deeper? Perhaps you love how I treat you, my Ray - my greatest masterpiece, yet…”

 

The cutting scrapes of the rough material finally lightened; the rope was covered with the wet of drool and blood. The Hispanic licked gratefully at his raw and abused gums, cut edges, and wounded lips until they were pressed straight away against other, warm lips. He moaned thirstily, feeling his cock bounce in interest and beginning to leak with arousal. He felt the wet, cropper-smelling slick weeping from his cuts and falling in thick streams until they pooled around his fingers, coating them in the dark shade of rose. When they parted, Ray gasped, earning an roused grunt from the killer of which now held him, dragging his body until he sat perfectly in his lap, strong fingers touching and grabbing at his now dingy and blood-spattered skin; purple splotches beginning to well and show. “Pretty girl, answer me.”

 

“ _Yes_ ,” Ray sobbed, throwing his head against the broad shoulders of the body of his boyfriend. James held him tight, scalpel dropping to the floor and a shuddering, surprised breath leaving his lungs at the answer of his victim. “I - I like how you treat me…I like it more than I should”

 

“Lovely Ray,” he whispered, hands beginning to unravel the thin, velvet ties that held the bra of the lingerie together. Ray felt his wrists twitch and knock together in response when he felt the chill of the air now running against his nipples and chest, the buds beginning to harden. “My pretty girl, don’t feel ashamed of  _loving_  this,” his hands now were running and palming against his pecs, purposely rubbing at the hardened buds and massaging them deeply. “You love it when Daddy touches your breasts? Your small, little breasts?”

 

Ray’s cock drooled, wetting almost the entirety of his head and even beginning to drip down the sides in thick, viscous streams. His body was quaking against the cold touches of the killer of which continued to poke, flick, and pinch at his hardening nips. It was  _amazing_  and all the while painful when the hardening blood stretched and pulled at his lacerations that laid against his stomach and thighs. He longed for the soothing touches, however, to distract him; it was exhilarating and yet frightening. He hummed a positive “yes” sound, digging his cheek into James’ chest and somewhat shifting his weight to relieve the tension against his twitching member. James’ kissed at his head, thumbs circling all around the pecs of the boy, whispering praises of how good and  _delicious_  he looked, and causing embarrassing yet thankful blushes to form on the Hispanic’s cheeks.

 

“Daddy’s so hard for his little girl,” he hummed darkly, purposely jolting his hips upward so that the victim could feel just how truthful he was. Ray quietly whined something incomprehensible, tightening his legs around the waist of which he was sitting in. The hardened, heavy bulge of his boyfriend trenched itself right in between the cleft of the boy, teasingly and hungrily poking. “Why don’t you get down on your knees, small love; please your Daddy like you ought’a…”

 

“You aren’t  _mine_ ,” Ray ran the risk to utter, hypocritically burying his face into the slump of the warm neck that opposed from the cold fingers that massaged at his chest, pinching so  _tenderly_ , it seemed nearly impossible that they belonged to a psychopath such as James. He felt the trembling growl that rumbled deep within the chest that pressed against his and he whimpered submissively, squeezing beads of tears from his eyes and letting them fall against the skin.

 

“But you’re  _mine_ ,” he glared, pulling the crying boy from his body. “My prize, my masterpiece -- and I do as I want with my work.” With a strong hand, he clasped at Ray’s throat, successfully grabbing at it almost with one go and causing the Lad to gag, gasping out with wide, panicked eyes. “ _Get on your knees_ , little slut; you  _enjoy_  this. Don’t fucking try to say you don’t.”

 

Ray cried, sniffling softly before finally sliding off of the killer, bending until he was on his knees. James’ chuckled  _evilly_ , stealing the voice of his boyfriend and yet twisting into something so malicious that it made the Lad’s heart give a terrified beat and a nervous sweat.

 

“Sweet love,” James’ cooed. “Don’t like yelling at my girl. See how easy it is? Listen to your artist, do as he says.” Tender, yet icy fingers stroked at the Lad’s hair, giving an encouraging tug to pull Ray’s face close. His other hand undid the links of his belt and pants until they were completely separated, allowing his cock to spring wantingly against the fabric of his underwear. “Daddy just wants to have fun. Don’t you?”

 

Ray obediently nodded, feeling the physical ache of the wounds seep hot and heavy blood from his nervous heart. They were beginning to clot and stop, but as Ray continued to shift his weight and bob, they would open up again. There were smears of both dried and wet blood that drug against his knees when he moved against the hard floor, ranging from all sorts of the color red from a lively, rich rose to a deep, dead black. James’ moaned, feeling his cock give a jolt of life when Ray’s lips wrapped around the clothed member, teasingly giving just the slightest nip to squeeze a bead of wetness to dab against the fabric. “D - don’t tease, lovely girl, don’t tease…”

 

He leaned forward, meeting the boy’s lips almost instantly with a content moan, hands picking at the strong rope that bounded Ray’s wrists together. The tugging of trying to get them loose cut and scraped at the sensitive, thin skin of the boy’s fingers and carpels and so Ryan finally picked up the blade from the floor, cutting the bonds with just the slightest nick into Ray’s wrist and making him yelp. It was just a slight cut, nothing too worrying, but the killer groaned, cursing himself when he brought Ray’s sore and worn hands towards his lips, licking at the seeping blood.

 

“Mistake, mistake -- that wasn’t supposed to happen,” he gritted, continuing to lick at the seeping wound like a dog trying to heal. “Aw, well. Seems I’ll just have to work around that, incorporate that into the art somehow.”

 

Ray shuddered when James licked one final time before pushing his body gently down, pressing his tented hardness against the opened, loose lips of the Lad. Ray obediently suckled, taking his raw, trembling hands and beginning to pull off the underwear. Once it was pulled down, the familiar heat knocked against the Hispanic’s mouth and he licked, earning a shuddering moan from the mental man, a heavy hand falling onto his head and massaging the scalp. “Such a good girl,” he praised. “Lips so wet, mouth so hot…”

 

Ray lapped at the leaking head, whimpering before wrapping his trembling hand at the base of the length, bobbing his head roughly as he usually does to please his boyfriend. He was crying through it all, completely terrified to displease the killer or anger him in anyway with the movements. Instead, James’ groaned, tilting his head backwards and settling comfortably with spread legs and closed eyes. Ray hated to admit that seeing him like that - his terrifying murderer all laid out, pleased and lazy, whispering adorations and encouraging words - made him unbearably hard and leaking. They were nothing like Ryan use to say, perhaps only a little, but it was obvious that Ryan had gotten his periodic devotions from his split. The tears of terror eventually stopped and Ray settled into a comfort pace.

 

He heard a heavy, yet pleased sigh from the man above him and suddenly, Ray gagged, but refusing to let go of the man’s cock when he felt the killer lean forward, sending nearly all of his dense, heavy cock into the Lad’s mouth with rough hands gripping harshly at Ray’s ass, spreading them apart to expose his twitching, leaking hole.

 

“My wet, baby girl.  _God_ , let me have you. Soaked just like a pretty, slick cunt. So fucking beautiful, my good girl.”

 

Ray hollowed his cheeks, licking achingly at the length that nearly made him choke and gag, but he blushed in appreciation. He felt James let off of him and he gasped when the thick cock pulled out from in between his lips with an audible  _pop_ , covered in watery, clear spit and slick and stood proud and thick - ready. “Com’ere…” James groaned.

 

Ray obeyed, trying his best to move and shift through the painful cries of his leaking wounds and ended up falling into the lap of the man, growing completely pliant and weighted. Warm lips sucked at his before meeting into a full kiss accompanied by lazy licks. Arms were wrapped around Ray's body, holding tight and snug.  

 

James bucked his hips, the wet tip of his cock rutting thirstily until Ray finally spread his own cheeks with unassured, red fingers. It seemed innate, opening himself for his boyfriend, however this was supposed to be /anything/ from familiar. He blushed in slight humiliation for himself, but it was quickly fizzled when the stretch of the head pushed inward, leaving him gasping. He shouldn’t have reacted this way - he should have ran. Now was the perfect chance, completely untied and gag gone. He didn’t run, though. He  _moaned_  so hungrily, leaning back until he was seated fully on the large lap with muscular thighs of his boyfriend, hands gripping at the murderer's shoulders.

 

Seeing James’ eyes roll back from utter pleasure made his cock drip and twitch, encouraging him to bounce just like he use to do with Ryan. The stretch brought out a whorish  _moan_  from the boy’s lips, hands settling familiarly against the shoulders of the killer and good God, the stretch and burn of the length seemed to be far too great and tasty. He couldn’t help himself; he moved, bouncing slightly with a breathless curse, head digging down until his nose bumped into James whose lips hung loose and plump with happiness.

 

“Oh,  _God_ , so tight -- squeezing around my cock as if you’re already milking me dry.” His hands gripped with rugged nails embedding so harsh to even draw specs of blood, another curse involuntarily leaving mouth from the artistic side  _longing_  to finish. He buckled his hips, meeting up with Ray’s bounces and making the Lad squeal for more. “My wet little girl riding her Daddy’s big cock. Don’t you love it, baby?” The nails loosened, now fingertips purposely rubbing at the bleeding slits. He took one finger and licked at it, shuddering sweetly at the taste of copper syrup with the mix of sugar and salt.

 

Ray gripped at the sandy blond locks of Ryan’s hair, throwing his head back to try and keep himself from nodding, eyes closed so that he couldn’t see. His mouth hung slack, but girlish whimpers and moans continued to stream with little periods of “ _fuck, yes_ ”, “ _feels so fucking good…_ ”

 

Ray hated himself. He hated himself for  _loving_  it. The excitement from the burning touches of the wounds, the secrecy of the killer, the thrill of _death_  coming into play, all topped off with a thick cock ramming into him so perfectly that his swollen length leaked for more.

 

“Oh, fuck,” James growled, breath faltering from the tightening, slick walls clamping down on his cock. He jolted his thrusts unevenly and relished in the lovely noises of the boy. “Keep doing that baby girl and this will end faster than I intended…”

 

Ray whimpered, shaking his head and gasped when he was suddenly pushed down, neck being pinned by a wrapping, strong hand along with his body being pressed. He choked out a strangled and heinous “Oh, God!” when James clasped him down, cock driving into him and angled so perfectly that he was gasping with toes curled.

 

“Fuck!” he yelped, wrapping a hand around the head of his cock just to feel the warm splash of cum coating his fingers. He  _melted_  as the euphoria completely took over and surged through his body. The pain from the cuts and the sting from the bruises were no longer there; all that was left was pleasure and the dripping moans of Ray writhing under the murderer.

 

“My lovely girl,” purred James,pumping only slightly so that he may work up to his own end. “Cumming all over me despite what I’ve done to you -- so  _good_  to your Daddy. So obedient…” He purposely ran his hands through the sticky fluid that ran against his stomach and Ray made a sickly noise when his hand brushed his over sensitive and twitching cock. “This could be us every single day…”

 

Ray whined, tilting his head to the side in pain of the thought. “No…” he whimpered, gritting his teeth when he heard James grunt above him, slack and stubbled lips grazing across his ear.

 

“She says ‘no’,” he mocked. “How cute…”

 

With that, Ray  _screamed_  at the stab of the blade that dug into his arm. He looked to see that James had picked up the scalpel. All of the pain seemed to incarcerate every fiber of the Lad’s arm as he couldn’t move it. He sobbed, desperate to try and pull away from the blade, but it was no use; it only dug deeper with every move he made and so he stopped moving altogether, letting James continue to thrust into him almost without any falter at all.

 

“You’re  _mine_ , you little bitch. You’ll never leave me. Not in this life...and not the next. Ryan is out of the picture, now, and I’ve taken over.”

 

“ _No!_ ” Ray yelled, clawing his good arm at the neck of the killer. The stick and slick between them made a mess of an attempt as Ray could not even get a decent enough grip. He felt the deathly clamp of James’ hand against his wrist, and a deep, guttural growl leave his throat. He spat a snarl at the broken and cut-up Lad with hateful eyes to glare deep within Ray’s. And the boy froze, eyes completely wide and shocked. He was  _unmoving_ , and utterly petrified when he looked into the darkened, blue eyes that no longer belonged to his boyfriend Ryan, nor even James. They were possessed by  _evil_  that belonged to no one other than Death, himself. Totally black and void of any love or life that could have remained in the small spaces, but sadly did not occupy any of that; and Ray couldn’t move because of the aghast that took over his body, his broken, bruised, and bloody body.

 

“Then  _die_ , you fucking whore!”

 

And with one, swift motion, there was the feeling of...unraveling. The pain that went along with it was something that Ray could not describe; all that he could think about was how unbearable it really was. The gushing, streaming warmth surrounded his entire neck like a small waterfall, and only the faint smell of metal was the only scent that he could breathe, and that was just even barely. To even think about trying to breathe through his mouth was impossible, and all he could afford was the slighted, most disgusting cough to ever come from his throat.

 

The faded face of James’ was completely splattered with red blood, a scowl on his face that resembled only abhorration and detest. Ray saw the killer stab him again, ripping deeply through his abdomen to cut open his entire body and gush out messy fluids and blood. Ray felt none of it, though. Ray felt  _nothing_.

 

“You’ll learn, little bitch,” were the last words that he heard.

  
  


======

  
  


_He sipped from his coffee, turning down the music of his headphones when the man in front of him gave him a questionable look. It was nothing nasty, however. It was actually very playful and warm, a deep chuckle leaving his chest when he looked into his eyes._

 

_“You always listen to crap like that?” the man asked._

 

_“Hey, fuck you,” the Lad smirked in reply. “I do as I please.”_

 

_“I see that,” the man hummed, raising an eyebrow and even taking another sip of his own beverage. “You seem like a very feisty boy. May I?” asked the man, giving out his hand. It was empty and the Lad made a face of confusion, but ultimately smiled when he saw the welcoming sparkle in the man’s eyes._

 

_“What do you mean?”_

 

_“You seem like a nice kid. I want to show you something. Is that a problem?”_

 

_“No,” the boy laughed. “Not really.” He got up from his chair and took the stranger’s hand, allowing the man to pull him along. They walked for a bit, but the boy’s smile never disappeared and neither did the man’s. It was all too comfortable and cheery._

 

_“Look at this,” said the man when they finally reached a door. It was completely red; a huge contrast to the surrounding white of the bland walls and pale floor of which they stood on. At first, the Lad frowned, puzzled of what he was supposed to be seeing until he felt the slightest tap of a kind finger against his shoulder. “Go on,” pleaded the man. “Open it.”_

 

_And the Lad did; slowly, that is. He was completely hesitant from when he circled his hand around the knob, to actually pushing against the door so that it may open. On the other side revealed a stream of light, surely to blind a person for a second or two until their eyes adjust. When they did do so, the boy gasped, jaw dropping completely along with fingers falling loose of the headphones that he carried._

 

_“Well?” the man breathed happily. “What do you think?”_

 

_“I - it’s gorgeous…” the Lad replied with a quavering voice. In the room, on the far side of the wall was a complete full body mural of a boy that looked just like him, or so he thought. Was it suppose to resemble him, or was it complete coincidence? “H - he looks like me…” the boy whispered._

 

_“Weird, huh?” the man laughed, shrugging his shoulders. He pressed gentle fingers along the back of the boy, encouraging for him to step forward. “Don’t be shy, now,” he coaxed. “It’s alright.”_

 

_“I just can’t believe…” the Lad’s voice trailed off, eyes fixated on the painting. He was clothed, but only slightly, with streams of red paint coating and dripping from his sides, as if he were melting into the ground. The boy’s face in the painting was beautiful and bright smile unlike any other, hands behind his back and posing all lovely like a model. Another thing that the Lad noticed about the piece was that the outlines, what little there were, were red, and nothing natural like a deep brown or even black. Including the shading; everything was coated with the lovely variations of red. “It’s beautiful,” the Lad sighed happily. “W - why did you show me this?”_

 

_The man pulled out a red-dipped paint brush and smiled. “I’m an artist,” he began. “I love to coat my canvases with red because...it’s just such a nice color. Don’t you think?”_

 

_“I really think so,” the Lad smiled, actually brushing his fingers against the wooden handle of the brush, giggling as he did so. There was a second hesitation before the boy cleared his throat. “Did you show me because…”_

 

_“You look just like him,” the man finished, glaring big and bright into the boy’s eyes. “I didn’t intend for it...but when I saw you, I knew it was you. It’s like...we’re connected somehow. Don’t you think?”_

 

_The Lad hesitated, a heavy lump filling his throat, but he nodded, swallowing heavily. “I believe so…” he smiled. This should have been weird, right? It wasn't natural to appear in a random artist's painting - especially almost nude with red drops coating his body. It wasn't weird, though. He chuckled at the mere thought of the odds and how amazing it really was._

 

_“What is your name, love?” the man asked, chuckling warmly. “I have to know. I have to give this piece of art a name.”_

 

_“Ray,” the Lad answered, grinning wide. “You’re an artist? It’s so funny, I feel like...I know you somehow. What is your name?”_

 

_“Ryan,” the man answered, a small frown against his lips before he cleared his throat and smiled. He held out his hand for the Lad to take and squeeze reassuringly once their fingers connected. “B - but my real name is James._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please mind you; the constant imagery and detail is for the HORROR of it. Please tell me if I did any errors or repetitive words.


End file.
